Ghost Ranger
by Rowana Renee
Summary: Will is trapped in a foreign kingdom with no way to get home, is accused of a crime he didn't commit, and everyone he thought he knew has turned against him. Did I mention that he's dead? Yeah. That could be a problem. Lucky for him Gil's there to help!
1. Chapter 1

**It's back! Ha, bet cha didn't even notice it was gone! *Giggles* That's because I only just deleated it! ^?^ I was sick of the general dorkyness of it, so I'm redoing the whole thing. ^_^ I'll still be including a verse from "Mighty to Save" in most of the chapters, but the first few chappies will need something...different. SO, I'm using various songs BUT I've edited the lyrics of some songs JUST a bit. Hope you enjoy. Also! Shout out to Halt's Apprentice, for getting me hooked on Iron Maiden! ^_^ Thank you, HA, you're great! ^?^ (Oh, I'll be doing shoutouts and giving awards in each chappy for my siggy-thang (Something new I just started doing) for more information please read the A/N at the bottom. Please read the chapter before you do so. OH, also, I'll be giving you guys more vivid descriptions and stuff, so now you'll really be seeing my mental picture of the RA charries. Prepare for LONG chapters! ^?^**

Ghost Ranger

Prologue: Trapped

_There are secrets that I keep.  
There are secrets that I keep.  
There are secrets that I tell to you alone.  
I can't reach things I can't see.  
You don't see this strange world  
Quite the same as me.  
Don't deny me what I am.  
Nothing hidden, still, you fail to see the truth.  
There are things I can't reveal.  
There are things I must conceal.  
_

It was dark inside the small building, with water glistening on the hard stones. Sometimes a faint dripping could be heard as water, the only water that the prisoners would see for a long time, fell from the ceiling to splash upon the floor. Some rats ran around, squeaking as their eyes flashed and they looked around for food. The odd scream could be heard from the deeper reaches of the dungeons. If one were to venture down the long, narrow hallway, between the rows and rows of crowded cells, then go around the corner in the very back of the room, they'd find a massive wooden door. If they were to open that door and go through they'd find another hallway, this one having only one cell at the very end. This was the room where questions were asked, where lies were told, and where people went mad trying to figure out what to say and how to say it.

Inside the cell at the end of the room there was a small table and two chairs. There wasn't a window, but there was one crack in the wall that would allow small amounts of light to enter. Maddeningly small whispers of light that were always just beyond reach. The cell itself was tiny, with hardly enough room to stand at full height for an average-sized man. It was so small it was claustrophobic, with the walls pressing in on all sides so that there was just barely enough room for two people. The darkness made it seem even smaller. There were no bars on the cell door. It was one massive block of oak that was painted black, to add to the darkness.

On the table there was a small candle, flickering and casting dancing shadows around in a dizzying pattern that would surely cause a person to go mad if they looked and watched for too long. It sat in the very center of the table, the wax already overflowing out of the tray that sat under it and pooling onto the table.

On one side of the table sat a dark, hunched figure. It was a tall man, strong of build, with narrow eyes and a determined look on his face. He appeared almost as stone, his jaw rigid and his eyes carrying a hard look about them. He wore a simple brown tunic, the neck of which had been ripped and sewn together so many times that the repaired threads were stretched visibly between the two halves, about halfway down to the mans' chest. Around his waist he wore a thick leather belt, hanging from which were a dagger, a loop of keys, and a sturdy leather strap. His breeches were worn out and spattered with mud, along with some other substance that was past definition. His boots went almost up to his knees and were scuffed at the toes, with the souls ripped and patched. But the most defining part of the mans' attire was the strip of black coth that covered his nose and mouth, lending his voice an oddly muffled tone that sounded like a strange mix between being eerie or enchanting. His voice was already low, even without the cloth there to mute it, and had a slight rasp. He sounded like a very powerful person, though in reality he was little more than a commoner.

"Tell me what you know." he growled at the figure sitting across the table from him.

The other person paled in comparison to the man. He seemed small, very small. He was short, about the height of an average fourteen year old, and was nowhere near as muscular as the man who was questioning him. He sat much straighter than the questioner, though, which annoyed the other man greatly. What was even worse was the fact that he didn't seem afraid. In fact, the boy seemed bored, if anything. His dark brown eyes spoke clearly that he wanted to be out of this cell, even that he didn't know why he was here in the first place. He also looked ever so slightly irritated, not to mention cross.

He sighed and shook his head, an edge of amusement coming into his voice. "I've already told you. I'm a ranger, why on Earth would I have anything to do with it? My job is to help protect people, not kill them."

Ah yes, the boy was a ranger. Not that the questioner, whose name was Colby MacNair, hadn't known that anyway. After all, the boy was certainly dressed as a ranger. He was wearing a dark green cloak that seemed to change colours with every breath the lad took, with every slight movement the cloak flickered between shades of green, brown, grey, and black. It was truly hypnotizing to watch, and had nearly cost MacNair his arrest earlier. The lad seemed simple enough, besides the cloak, in an old white tunic, over which was a dark brown vest. A makeshift belt around his waist was home to a double scabbard, an empty one. His doeskin breeches had a hole in one knee, testiment to the fact that he, though a ranger, was still a fairly young lad. His boots were made of soft leather and the tops were rolled down to form a sort of cuff. The defining thing about his attire, apart from the cloak, was the silver oakleaf that hung on a chain around his neck. It glistened in the light cast by the candle, glowing brightly, its shine heightened by the darkness.

MacNair heaved a deep breath, rubbing his temples for several seconds before speaking again. "And I've already told you that I know you're a ranger, and that's exactly why you would've been involved. What's to say that your king didn't send you here, eh? He's gotten tired of ruling his own kingdom, so now he wants this one to fall so he can take it?"

Will glowered at him, his eyes flashing furiously as he did so. "Are you insane? Do you really think that King Duncan would-"

MacNair cut off his sentence with a snarl, glaring back at him with twice as much loathing. "Well then explain how it could be any other way, will you, lad? Just answer two simple questions and you can leave. Do you know who did it?"

Will, still glaring, nodded, looking away to watch some of the dancing shadows. "Yes."

MacNair nodded several times, looking around before leaning back in his chair. "I thought so. Who was it?"

Will closed his eyes for a moment, thinking it over. When he opened them again there was a new message displayed there, one that MacNair couldn't read. "I can't tell you-" he began.

MacNair sat up straight, his eyes boring into Wills'. "Why not?"

Will raised an eyebrow. "I thought you said there were only two questions, Sir, or are you just as much of a liar as you assume I am?"

MacNair growled low in his throat, wondering if he'd be allowed to have his way with this scrawny, sarcastic little devil before things were over. "Just. Answer." he spat

Will shrugged. "Because the one who did it should have a chance to speak for themself, without fear or doubt of what might happen to them because of it."

MacNair rolled his eyes, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms behind his head. "And what would they say, boy, were they to speak for themself."

Will hesitated; he hadn't expected that question. He mentally cursed himself for not thinking through exactly why he must defend the one who'd gotten him in so much trouble. "Well," he finally started, "They would say that, really, they haven't done anything wrong. That they-"

He was interupted by MacNairs' snarl of annoyance.

MacNair leaned forward, grabbing Will and dragging him partly across the table so they were practically eye-to-eye. The candle was pushed to the far right side of the table by MacNair as he choked Will with one hand and grasped the edge of the table in the other. He looked furious now, furious enough to kill.

"Those words aren't from another, boy. You don't want to tell me who did it because you know that it was you!" he would have said more, but unluckily didn't get a chance to.

Will, who had gotten over the shock of suddenly finding himself in a choking grip, managed to get partly out of MacNairs' hold, looking up at him with an admittedly funny expression of annoyance and sracasm. "Well if you knew that already then why bother asking?" he muttered

MacNair dropped him, slumping back into his own chair and pushing the candle back into place. "You'll hold your tongue, boy." he snarled

Will rolled his eyes. "Make up your mind. First you want me to talk, then you tell me to be quiet when I try to tell you. Do you want your answers or not?"

MacNair made a hand gesture where his index finger was almost touching his thumb. "You're about this close, boy, to getting on my nerves."

Will tilted his head about half an inch, his eyes becoming falsely wide and curious. "Oh really?" he asked innocently, "I thought we'd reached an understanding."

MacNair stood up, fury in his eyes. "I was going to go easy on you, but no, apparenly you'd rather do things the hard way, so that's exactly what we're going to do." with that he made his way around to Will, who was wondering if he should be worried or not, and glowered at him before walking over to the far wall and fiddling with something Will couldn't see.

Now Will was sure he was in trouble. He tried to see what MacNair was doing, but couldn't see well enough to know what the man was doing. As MacNair returned to the table Will was sure he could hear something rattling. It didn't sound like a snake rattling, but it didn't sound like anything more friendly than a snake either.

MacNair flashed him a wolfish grin, which remained unseen anyway because of the cloth, and did the last thing Will would have expected.

He blew out the candle.

That was, of course, confusing. Will was pretty sure that MacNair wouldn't be able to see anything either, and he himself certainly couldn't see anything. The darkness was so complete that he litterally couldn't see anything. He could MacNair doing something across from him and, for a moment, wondered if he'd be able to find his way to the door, as well as wondering if the door was unlocked. But no, that was a terrible idea; trying to escape would just make it seem even more like he was the criminal they were looking for.

Then he felt a hand clamp around his wrist.

He resisted at first, but the grip was strong and forced both of his hands onto the table, where a heavy object of some sort closed around his forearms to prevent escape from whatever was about to happen.

The problem was that nothing was about to happen. He heard the door open, and for a brief moment caught a small glimpse of light,, along with MacNairs' retreating figure, before the door closed again and he was left alone in the darkness.

He was trapped.  
_

**DUN! DUN! DUN! DUUUUNNNNN! :P YAY! Soo, how'd you like it? There'll be more than two people in the next chapter, really! Hmmm...let's see...There'll be Halt, and Gilan, and some other rangers! Not to mention That Guy. ^?^ Lemme know what you think.**

**OH, the siggy-thang! In Guardian Ranger my signiture thing is that I do several polls and stuff. SO, for this story my siggy thang is going to be the first ever 2010 Ranger Awards. I'll be giving out awards to who I think deserves them.**

**SO first up, let the voting begin for the Best Adventure Story. please use the links provided to go read the story and then vote on which you liked best.**

**The winner of the Golden Ranger for Best Adventure story is (Drumroll)**

**Black Castle by Ali_Ranger 51! Congrats, Ali! You've got a great story going with this one! Here's a link to her story, everyone go read it because it rocks! .net/s/5893243/1/The_Black_Castle**

**Here are the nominees for Best Angst story!**

**I'm Sorry= .net/s/5712053/1/Im_Sorry **

**What would Happen if Book 2= .net/s/5015202/1/WWHI_Book_2**

**Recovery= .net/s/4838657/1/Recovery**

**Vote on which is best! **


	2. Chapter 2

**Just so you guys know; I'm a very MEAN person-**

**Will: Yep!**

**MeL: SHUT UP WILL! *Huggles him***

**Anyways...I'm a very mean, evil, wicked person. I just came up wiiiiitttthhhh *Does happy dance while singsonging* Something mean an' evil to do ta te readers! Uh huh. Storyline twist has been planned! Mmhhmmm... I are daren' ya to guess WHO'S GOT WILLERS! And also, it'sa gonna blow your mind. THINK OF THE MOST UNLIKELY EVENT YOU CAN! ^?^ **

**Warning: This chapter contains: HALT ANGST! HALANGST! YAY! I made a new word...*Claps***

**Oh yeah, and there'll be humour in this chapter to make up for the X-Rated darkness that's to come. (X-Rated=totally clean, just try not to slip in all of the-**

**Will: That's gross!**

**Me: *Looks away* blood...*Cheshire cat grin***

**Will: You liar!**

**Quirrel: NO QUOTE STEALING! *Glares***

**Will: There won't be that much blood and gore coming up, just some really dark themes (Creepiness fit for a horror movie. You know how the music makes you think it's going to get scary and you're so convinced of that that by the time the non-scary thing happens you think it was scary? That's what it's going to be) **

Chapter 1: The Last Letter

_Take me above your light,  
Carry me through the night.  
Hold me secure in flight.  
Sing me to sleep tonight._

The man stood as still as a stone, not even a breath to disturb him with motion. Were his hazel eyes not bright and aware, a person could have easily mistaken him for dead. His hair was so dark brown that it was almost black, though streaks of grey were indeed beginning to show through. His face was tan, as if he spent a lot of time outside, and his chin was adorned with brown stubble. He was focused on something in the far distance, his eyes narrow with concentration. In his hands he clutched a bow, an arrow nocked and ready to fire. Around his neck hung a silver chain, the end of which was hidden from sight down the front of his tunic. On his back was a quiver of arrows, eleven to be precise. And, attached to the leather belt that went around his waist, there was a double scabbard inside of which were two knives, one for throwing and one for close combat. His cloak, a fine garment of forest gree, mottled with greys and browns and blacks, was lowing gently in the soft breeze that danced through the meadow. Whether or not he noticed the wind was a question left to be answered.

A few feet behind him stood a proud looking horse, its coat as black as night and its eyes wide and questioning. Its mane was dark grey, almost as black as the rest of its pelt. It was a short creature, to be sure, but, as with all things, this animal was much more than it seemed.

Halt released the arrow, watching until, with a soft "Thud", it met the center of the target that he'd earlier placed in the three. There were several other targets as well, most of which were full of holes or had arrows sticking out of them. Halt could, obviously, have shot the lot of them dead-center in a matter of seconds, after all he was a ranger, but today he felt like taking things more slowly. He was waiting for something, and what better to do while waiting than practice the fine art of archery?

He would have smiled, but he wasn't the type to engage in such things. No, he had better things to do, like not letting his foolish former apprentice realize that he knew exactly where he was hiding and was wondering why on Earth the boy had come.

Gilan, on the other hand, had things to do that involved not knowing that his old mentor knew he was there.

The young ranger was hiding behind a tree, well concealed by his cloak. His bright green eyes flashed with mischief while his dark auburn hair framed a tan face, high arching eye-brows giving him a look of being surprised or confused. There was almost no difference in his own attire and that of the older ranger. Indeed, the only real difference lay with his weapons. He, too, carried two knives, a quiver of twenty-four arrows, and a longbow. But he also carried a sword in a leather scabbard attached to his belt, which was something that no other ranger had.

He grinned as he tried to sneak to a different tree, one that was closer to Halt. He continued the pattern of weaving in and out of the trees' shadows until he was in the open, which was when he changed tactics and used his cloak to help him blend in with the shifting light that decorated the clearing. He was only a few feet away from Halt and was about to yell quite loudly, in hopes of startling him, when Halt heaved a sigh and shook his head sadly.

"You'll just never learn, will you, Gilan?"

Gilan nearly fell over, his eyes wide and his jaw dropping. "_Wha_-? N-? You did _not _know I was there!" he stammered, protesting indignantly.

Halt turned toward him, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, I didn't, did I? You're right, now I know you're here; before now I was simply refering to a blank space of air as you."

Gilan scowled and Halt could see a slight pout coming to the younger rangers' features. "How long was it before you realized I was here?" Gilan muttered stoically.

Halt shrugged. "Long enough." now he himself seemed slightly put-out.

Gilan beamed. "Aha!" he exclaimed, "So I'm _not _losing my touch! _You _are!"

Halt growled and rolled his eyes. "I never said that-"

Gilan was too elated to listen any further, and started babbling fit to confuse even the most well-trained scribe in King Duncans' court. So much for a day of peace and quiet. Normally Halt wouldn't have minded having Gilan around, in fact he would have been secretly grateful for the company. But today was different. Very different.

He finally held up a hand for silence and, for probably the thousandth time that day, scanned the horizon with his eyes for any sign of the thing he was looking for. "Gilan, do you mind?"

Gilan seemed to deflate. "Yes Halt..."

Halt, finishing his overlook of the sky, turned back to his former trainee. "Why are you here anyway?" he asked

Gilan grinned. "I knew I could make you ask first!"

One look from Halt told him that he'd better get to the point and quickly. "I'm supposed to bring you a message from Crowley." he said simply.

Halt nodded and waited a moment. When Gilan didn't continue he cast the heavens a 'why me?' look before glaring at Gil. "_And_...?" he prompted.

Gilan jumped as if startled. "Oh, yes...er...You're to meet him at the gathering grounds one week...I think he said 'hence' but I'm not sure..."

Halt had never wanted to slap himself as much as he did now. "And he had to send you instead of a letter _because_...?"

Gil shot him an offended look. "Because I was there anyway; we're going on a duel mission!"

Again Halt was wondering what he'd done to envoke such wrath from the gods. "You must be mistaken, Gilan; I can't go on any missions because I'm still keeping watch for-"

Gilan shook his head. "No, Crowley said that he's going to get Toby to do that."

Halt gaped. "Tobias Thatch? He's about to retire! Don't look so hurt, Gilan, you know he is."

Gilan shrugged. "You know, other rangers are capable of waiting for letters to come."

Halt glowered at him menacingly. "I know that. But I'm his mentor and...why are you laughing?"

Gilan sniggered and shook his head. "He graduated a year ago!"

Halt sighed. "That doesn't make him any safer..."

* * *

He couldn't have been any safer, and that was exactly what was annoying him.

Will growled in frustration and tried, once more, to pull away from the chains that were holding his arms firmly in place upon the table. He still didn't get what the point was, to have to sit here. For hours. And hours. And hours. Normally he would have been able to handle it, if Halt or anyone else had asked him to sit still for who knows how long he would have, well he wouldn't have liked it, but it wouldn't be nearly as bad as being forced to stay in one place.

And it didn't help that the place he was being forced to stay was about as exciting as a lecture on how yawning works. It wasn't like he had anything to look at; he would have counted cobwebs or cracks in the ceiling, but it was too dark for that. He had, about an hour ago when he realized no one was coming, started trying to escape from the chains that held him in place. But the shackles were far too strong and Will had soon found himself almost completely exhausted. And the guard hadn't even had the consideration to accidently leave him an item with which to pick the lock!

Will sighed, for probably the fiftieth time in that minute, and tried one more time, actually standing up as he did so. Well he managed to do _something_. The chair was knocked over as he stood up, so now he would have three options. Either remain standing, break the chains, or kneel, the latter of which would put him in the perfect place to do what he'd been longing to do for the past three days; bang his head on the table as hard as he could. He was about to settle for trying to crack his skull when another option came to mind.

Leverage.

He was glad it was dark, because what he was about to try would probably make him look totally ridiculous...  
_

"What? That's ridiculous!"

Halt glared at Gilan, looking angrier than the younger ranger had seen him in several years. "And what, pray tell, gives you the right to insult me?"

Gilan backed away, holding both hands up in surrender. "No! That's not what I meant at all! I just think it's a little...weird...that you think you've got to be the one to keep watch and..."

Halt glowered at him even harder. "If he gets in trouble over there I want to know right away! I can't wait until some fool tells me!"

Gilan, noting that Halt seemed ready to turn into a rabid animal of some sort and eat him, frowned with worry. "Something's happened, hasn't it?" he prompted, his voice full of concern.

Halt sighed, closing his eyes and nodding. "Yes, actually, something has happened..." he muttered, more to himself than to Gilan.

Gil, looking even more worried, took a step closer. "What happened? Is he okay or...?"

Halt shrugged. "That's just it; I don't know if he's okay! His last letter was...well...worrysome isn't quite the right word. It wouldn't be that bad, if he'd actually finished the letter."

"What did it say?" Gilan asked, his concern deepening.

Halt sighed again. "Mostly mundane gibberish, actually, he had only just started to get to the point when the letter ended. Here, look." With that he reached into one of his pockets and withdrew a folded piece of parchment, unfolding it and handing it to Gilan.

"_Greybeard Halt, _

_Haha, you can't get me for that until I get back! I'm supposed to report to you, but there's really nothing to say this time. The general's finally cought on that something's not right, which is more than I can say for his second in command. I still don't really know what's going on, but I've got a pretty good idea now. I can't say for sure until later though._

_Some people really don't know how to be grateful. I was trying to tell the king something, and I kind of forgot to knock...do you know what he did? Ever been yelled at like you're three for about an hour? I thought he was going to choke himself to death! Ah well...guess it could've been a little worse. But, on the bright side, I've finally found someone who appreciates my mandola. And they actually know what it's called! Imagine that! _

_How are things back at Redmont? Is Alyss doing alright? Have you heard anything about Horace lately? How's Abelard? Are you okay?"_

Gilan looked up, smirking. "Well," he said calmly, "You don't have to worry that he might be an imposter. That's Will, for sure."

Halt rolled his eyes. "Just read the letter, Gilan."

"Yessir."

"_But back to what's going on. The general's been acting a bit...well, odd. Not that I think he had anything to do with what happened, just I think he might know something, but I can't get him to talk. But it's strange, because the other day-"_

Gilan frowned."That's all it says. There's just a streak of ink after the Y."

Halt nodded grimly. "That's what I'm worried about. His next letter is supposed to get here today, but if it doesn't..."

It didn't.

* * *

"Oh, for the love of..."

Will glared at the table, which was still firmly in place, by the way. At least he hoped he was glaring at it, seeing as he couldn't really see to know where it was. It had taken him an hour, but he'd finally managed to brace his feet against the edge of the table, which gave him more leverage with which to pull at the chains. It also gave him a bit of a head rush.

He'd thought that he was finally getting somewhere, but right when he was pretty sure the chains were about to break he suddenly lost the leverage he'd worked so hard to get. As in, he slipped. He did hear a craking sound, but on second check he realized that that was just the sound he'd made upon hitting the floor. Bugger.

He sighed and went almost completely limp, exhausted from his efforts, before realizing that it's early impossible to sulk properly when you're half-upside down because you can't fall on your back correctly when your arms are attached to a table that's not considerate enough to give you enough leeway to fall right.

Groaning, he sat up, sort of, and switched over to kneeling, his forehead pressed against the edge of the table. Maybe banging his head on it wouldn't be such a bad idea after all...Nah, he was too tired for that.

Instead he closed his eyes and tried to fall asleep, maybe have a nice dream about being able to feel his arms, which had both gone numb, or maybe even move them a little...

Of course, he might have had that dream had he fallen asleep, which would have been much easier if not for the sudden stream of blinding like that felt as if it punched him in the face. He closed his eyes as tightly as he could and tried to look away from where the light was coming from, but was soon hauled to his feet by a burly something that blocked out the light, leaving him in darkness once more.

He looked up and was just able to make out a face.

It was MacNair. Oh joy. The man was grinning from ear to ear, though his eyes clearly said that the only funny thing about the situation hadn't even happened yet. With his grin as broad as ever the man spoke.

"Hello, little nuisance-" he began before Will interupted him.

"What are you doing?" Will asked, trying to see exactly what it was MacNair was doing, after all, his captor was holding a strange object that Will couldn't see properly in the dim lighting.

MacNair growled and looked like he'd love to have a longer conversation than was about to take place, but instead shrugged.

"Kings' orders, lad, time for you to say goodnight." he said before lunging forward, knife gleaming.

* * *

**Heheheheheeee...AW, c'MON! You had to know that was coming! ^;^ SOooo, sorry if I messed up Halt a bit; I'm not sure whether I've gotten him right or not. ANyways, I'm working on Guardian Ranger and everything...I'ma try to update all of my stories soonish. Like...maybe one or two updates everyday 'til I've got 'em all? **

**Don't eat me for being slow, guys, please? I'm in the final stages of writing one of my real novels, so I are pretty busy lol ^?^ Anyways, you probably want me to shut up and announce the winner soooo...yeah, hang on while I tally the votes...**

**The winner of the Golden Ranger for the best Angst story isssssss...*Drumroll* Wait...yeah...okay...*Whispers among group of imaginary friends, as well as *Coughs* secret anon person with a real account who does not want her name to be mentioned* Kay! SO, there's a clear first, second, and third place in this one! Third place (Bronze ranger) goes to..."I'm Sorry!" Congrats to the author! *Gives bronze ranger***

**The second place winner for the best angst story is...*Drumroll* "Recovery!" *Bows* Excellent job with it! *Gives silver Ranger award***

**And that means that the first place winner, the winner of the golden Ranger Award for the best Angst story issss..."WWHI Book 2"! *Gives award***

**Congradulations to Pendragon P A S S I O N on your fabutastiwondershonxerific story! ^?^ Keep up the great work! ^?^**

The next chapter will feature the nominees for the next group ^?^ If you would like to nominate a story for one of the awards please tell me in the review which story you'd like to nominate, and which genre it's in (Adventure, crime, tragedy, act.) ^;^


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